


Smudge

by Ursa_Tattoo



Category: The LEGO Movie (2014)
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, Gen, Pre-TLM2, it's kind of sad and mostly contemplative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 05:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19660750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ursa_Tattoo/pseuds/Ursa_Tattoo
Summary: Rex always gets away from his adventures unscathed, but that doesn't mean there's no clean up to do.





	Smudge

Another day, another adventure, and, as always, Rex Dangervest manages to get away unscathed. Nothing can hurt him if he doesn’t want it to, not when he’s a master breaker and a million other things that add up to capital-C cool. But still, it’s been a long day, and he goes back to the Rexcelsior to relax and recover until the next adventure.

There are few mirrors within the confines of his ship. Who needs mirrors when you can just not care what you look like? ~~He cares. He cares like nothing else.~~ Yet he catches a hint of something awry out of the corner of his eye, in the reflection of the glass that lets him peer out into space.

A smudge.

He can’t quite make out exactly what’s awry at a glance, and so he reluctantly makes his way into the deepest part of the ship, to a room no one who entered the Rexcelsior would know to look for, nor how to find it. In the room, there is only a single uncracked mirror, several small markers, and a stack of alcohol swabs.

Looking in the mirror shows what’s awry: there’s a smudged line down the side of his face, blurring the eyebrow, stubble, and cheekbone that he put such work into maintaining, and he groans, getting out one of the swabs.

He rubs lightly, washing away the ink that makes him into Rex Dangervest without doing damage to the face underneath, and within a minute or so, the swab is black as coal, and his face is Emmet Brickowski’s blank slate again. Generic and indistinguishable from any other.

Well, for the most part. Emmet had never looked so tired. The crow’s feet next to his eyes won’t ever quite wash away when he does this. Maybe they’re just a permanent part of him now, like the little hints of silver that keep arising in the plastic of his hair. He doesn’t know, and he really doesn’t care to know.

He makes eye contact with the stranger in the mirror, briefly fluffing his hair back to a neater style. It’s not quite the same. Still with stray hairs and the darker color and the impression of taming the untamed. But he looks, he looks closely at the stranger in the mirror, and he wonders.

And then the moment is over, and Rex fluffs his hair back into its unkempt mane as he gets out his markers. He can reapply the dots and lines with a practiced ease, and before long, all traces of soft Emmet-ness vanish, and he’s Rex again. He practices his cocky smirk in the mirror, the one that makes him look like himself, and puts the markers away.

As he moves to leave, he briefly presses his fist to the glass before turning away. He still needs at least one mirror left unshattered, after all. All of the others are in pieces, discarded.

He locks the door behind him, leaving the room forgotten until next time.


End file.
